


what happens in solstice stays in solstice

by leafygreenturtle



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Airtight, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Consensual Somnophilia, Double Penetration, F/M, Female receiving oral, Foursome, Kinktober 2020, Light Bondage, M/M, Male receiving oral, Massage with happy ending, Oral Sex, Orgy, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Somnophilia, a tiny bit of wing sin, azriel's shadows come out to play, didn't write this for kinktober but it conveniently happens to be kinktober, i guess, if you squint closely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafygreenturtle/pseuds/leafygreenturtle
Summary: Feyre remembers the offer Rhys made to her in the birchin during their first Winter Solstice together, and she decides to take him up on it.
Relationships: Cassian/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand/Azriel/Cassian, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand/Cassian, Rhysand/Cassian
Comments: 11
Kudos: 144





	what happens in solstice stays in solstice

_Remember that offer you made me on Solstice? In the birchin…_

A pulse of wicked amusement shot down the bond. _Always. Why?_

_Well, I think I may take you up on it,_ Feyre said, heart racing at the possibility of it—what she was asking. _If the offer’s still open._

_Why, Feyre, such dirty thoughts for a High Lady._

Without warning, Rhys winnowed to the estate where Feyre was. She started at the sudden movement, almost falling off the chair was sitting on. 

She choked on a laugh. “A little eager, aren’t we?” 

He laughed. “Something like that.” But his eyes were dark with desire as he took her in. Her barely-there negligee. She smirked as she crossed her legs and leaned back in her seat next to the fire. 

It suddenly occurred to her that she wasn’t sure if the two Illyrian warriors would even _want_ this. 

“Are they—“

He snorted. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She raised her brows at the words. She wondered what, exactly, had been said in that birchin between the three of them. 

Rhys read her face, the unspoken question in it, and chuckled. “You don’t want to know.”

At her mock offended face, he moved behind her and kissed her neck. “All good things, darling.”

“Better be.” But she was smiling. 

...

About an hour later, it was all set up. 

Feyre was laying on her stomach on a massage bed in the center of the room. There was a simple black silk cloth tied over her eyes, and though she couldn’t see it, the lights were dimmed. The air was warm enough that she wasn’t cold being completely nude. 

And even though she couldn’t see them, she could feel Cassian and Azriel along with her mate in the room. They all had such a tangible presence to them, and if it weren’t for that, their scents still would have given them away. 

She felt Rhys’s hands on her first, recognizing the familiar shape and calluses of them, and it eased her. Something warm and wet was poured on her—scented oils—and then she felt his broad hands massaging her back. 

She groaned softly when he got to the tense muscles of her shoulders, and then she felt another pair of hands at her legs. Azriel’s. She could feel the rough scars on his hands as they gently, so gently massaged her. 

_Wings,_ Rhys said down the bond, and she complied. Large, thick membranous wings ripped from her back, and she groaned when she felt a third pair of hands massaging them. 

Rhys’s hands were now kneading her lower back and her backside, and Azriel’s skilled hands were working on her upper thighs. 

Feyre closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the three pairs of hands on her, at the slow, sweet wave of pleasure that washed over her. 

She didn’t know when Rhys had knelt and pulled her closer to the edge of the small mattress so he could feast on her. She cried out as her orgasm swept over her, and she felt another pair of hands on her wings, stroking lightly, and she couldn’t tell when one orgasm ended and the second began. 

But at long last, Rhys rose, and gentle hands were flipping her over to her back, and then someone slid the blindfold off her eyes, and she blinked as she took in the three naked Illyrian warriors standing around her. 

Her throat dried as she saw their fully hard lengths. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed Cassian’s length. He hissed and gripped her wrist to stop her. 

“Not yet,” he said

Feyre glanced at Rhys, but he only looked at her as if to say, _Your call”._

She looked at Cassian again, at his now-blazing eyes. Then Azriel. “I want you,” she breathed. 

She could have sworn Cassian shuddered at the words. Rhys only smirked as he watched her. 

But Azriel— _Azriel_ —smirked and said, “I would never deny my High Lady anything.”

And then his hands were on her, and he was kneeling before her, tugging her closer to the edge of the mattress as Rhys had done, and she shuddered with pleasure as his tongue flicked inside her, then sucked at the bundle of nerves between her legs that was already sensitive from Rhys’s attention. 

But he coaxed that sore spot slowly, bringing her near that edge, and her hand reached down to grip his hair, to bring him closer to that ache between her legs, and she thrust in his face as she came on his tongue. 

Her legs were still trembling around him as he pulled away, his face wet as he looked up at her with a mixture of reverence and dark desire. 

But she had had enough of laying there and taking their pleasure. She wanted to touch them, to have them writhing and coming apart beneath her hands. 

Legs still shaky, she dropped to her knees in front of Cassian and looked up at him while she stroked him. He groaned, hand sliding down to tangle in her hair, and she took the cue and put her mouth on him. His hips jerked forward, and she took him deeper in her mouth. 

_“Shit.”_

From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhys watching them and stroking himself, his pace slow, almost leisurely. 

A hand on her shoulder pulled her off Cassian, and she turned to see Azriel coating his length with a sweet scented oil. Her gut tightened. She remembered what Rhys had said about the shadowsinger, about how Azriel enjoyed one thing in bed above all others. 

He was on the bed now, and he hauled her over him so that she was on her back, and he slowly, so slowly, slid into her ass. She moaned, deep and long, as he slid all the way in to the hilt. He was so big, and every small, measured thrust he made stretched her out a little more. 

She felt so full with him inside her, she could barely breathe, only able to let out high, needy whimpers of pleasure and pain. 

“More,” she pleaded. _More more more—_

Azriel obliged, silent as ever as he thrust in harder, and it was at once too much and not enough, and she moaned again, silently begging for more, urging him with her hips to go faster, even as every thrust inside her drove in so deep that it bruised, but the small pain only blended with the pleasure she felt that was rising with every movement of his hips. 

Rhys came over her now, and he kissed her as he slid into her, and she felt as though she’d burst from the fullness and pleasure that swept over her. Having Azriel in her ass only made the fit that much tighter, so when Rhys slid in, her vision whitened for a moment. 

_“Fuck,”_ she swore, and Rhys chuckled, and she could feel the vibrations of it inside her. She moaned again, running her hands through his hair, his shoulders, needing to feel him, needing to get closer. 

They were moving in tandem inside her, and she felt a deep orgasm building inside her, mounting and cresting with every twin thrust inside her. She had never felt pleasure like this, pleasure that was so consuming, overwhelming, pleasure that blocked out every other thought and sensation and feeling—

“Rhys—“ she gasped out. Words failed her, and she said down the bond, _It feels so good_ , and _please don’t stop._

She didn’t realize her eyes were squeezed shut until she felt Cassian’s cock pushing at her mouth. She opened for him, and he slid in, deep, and from this angle, it was hard to take all of him. 

She choked, feeling herself get messy as drool spilled over her mouth, her chin, and he slowed his pace, pulling out of her before easing back in, and she swallowed him whole this time. He groaned softly, and started thrusting lightly, slow and measured. 

The three of them moving in her, she couldn’t think beyond the three points of pleasure, the places where they connected. Her back arched off the bed, and Rhys slid a hand to her breasts, cupping them, rolling a nipple between his fingers. 

Someone slid a hand down to the bundle of nerves between her legs, and she gasped in a breathless scream as that touch sent her over the edge. 

Her orgasm was endless, and she couldn’t tell when one ended and the second began, and through it all, the three males kept moving in her, driving into her relentlessly, until they were all she could taste and feel and scent. 

At some point, Azriel pulled her onto his lap, and she was kissing her way across his broad chest, her hands exploring every inch of his beautiful, sun-kissed, sculpted body. She nipped lightly at a nipple, and he hissed out a breath, pulling her in to kiss her hard. She dragged her hands down his back, his hair, then lower, feeling the hard muscles of his thighs, his backside. She groaned, unable to get enough of him. 

He made a trail of kisses down her neck, and Feyre twisted in his lap to see Rhys staring at her, eyes blown with lust, even as he kissed Cassian. 

The sight of it was so erotic, Feyre moaned, long and loud, and ground down on Azriel’s hard length. He hissed out a breath, and lifted her for half a heartbeat before lowering her down again, and ripped another groan from her as she felt his impossibly huge length stretching her pleasantly. She tossed her head back as he began thrusting up hard, and his mouth lowered to her breast, licking and sucking. 

“Azriel,” she moaned, tangling her fingers in his hair. 

He bit down on her breast at the sound of his name on her lips, and she cried out at the sharp sting of pain and pleasure. 

Behind them, Rhys loosed a warning growl. She turned to make eye contact with him, and the image that greeted her almost made her come right then and there. 

Rhys was stroking Cassian’s member. The generals head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as Rhys worked him. He swatted Rhys’s hand away and pulled him in for a searing kiss, his hands gripping the raven black hair. 

“I want to watch them,” she breathed.

Azriel lifted and turned her so that she was facing forwards, and then slid her down on him again. His thrusts were harder, faster now, building towards climax. 

His hand slid down to the bundle of nerves between her legs and she ground down on him as he kissed her neck, biting softly and leaving little love bites that would mark her for days afterward. She wondered what Rhys would think about the small display of possessiveness. But as her mate now had his tongue down Cassian’s throat, she decided they were all allowed their indulgences. 

“Can you use your shadows?” she asked, leaning her head further back into his shoulder as he peppered her with more kisses. Azriel was an attentive lover; he remembered which spots made her gasp and scream. She wondered distantly if all Illyrians were this generous and talented in bed. 

Across the room, she watched as Rhys reached for a bottle of oils and slicked his length, then slid slowly inside Cassian. As if her mate knew she was watching, he turned his face to meet her eyes, even as he rolled and thrust his hips and Cassian’s low groans and swearing filled the room. 

Azriel huffed a laugh against her ear, drawing her attention back to him, and her back arched further. “My shadows want you too.” 

She tried to turn her head to look at him, but he turned it back. Not with his hand. With a shadow. The cold, wispy touch made her shiver, and she leaned further back against him. 

“They feel how wet you are, the dirty little thoughts inside your head, and they tell me about them. They tell me how you told Rhys you wanted three Illyrians inside you. More. How you wanted him to dump you a war camp and let them all take a turn with you.”

Her cheeks heated, because it was true. She hadn’t even shared the last thought with Rhys.

“How many Illyrians can you take inside you, Feyre?” he asked softly, and she whimpered. 

When she didn’t answer, his thrusts became punishingly hard. He bottomed out and still pushed. She gasped at the exquisite pain, the feeling of being filled so wholly. He was so big inside her, she thought she would explode from the pleasure of it. 

“How many, Feyre? Can you take two in the same hole?”

She moaned, but he gripped her hair, pulling her head back so that her neck was bared to him. Then he bit down at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. 

“Yes,” she gasped. “Whatever you give me.”

His shadows began touching her again. Cool, smoky whisps of darkness that teased her thighs, her breasts. It felt like a phantom touch, and the icy coldness of it against her hot, sweat-flushed skin made her gasp, arching into his hands. Rhys let his shields drop, and she felt every thrust he made. Combined with Azriels relentless movements inside her, it was almost too much. 

A tendril of his shadows slithered up her arms and bound her wrists above her head, and her cheeks heated at the new position. She could no longer hold onto him, it was only his arms around her that kept her from falling. 

Azriel was close. She could feel it in the slight urgency of his thrusts, and his hand rolled and stroked the spot between her legs faster. She could feel Rhys speed up too, and he tumbled over that glorious edge a moment later.

She let out a breathless scream as her orgasm swept over her, a slow, sweet wave. Azriel came in her a moment later, groaning as he emptied himself in her. He was still half hard as she slid out of him. 

Rhys was there, having crossed the room without her noticing, and he hefted her up in his arms, her legs crossing behind his lower back as he leaned her against the wall, and kissed her, deep and passionate. His tongue swept in, sliding over the roof of her mouth. The kiss was demanding—an unleashing. 

She groaned into his mouth, and he pulled back to study her face. Her neck. His eyes landed on the love bites there, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. 

“Jealous?” she smirked. 

“Cruel, wicked thing,” he said, but the words were breathless.

“If you don’t like them, _show me,_ ” she gasped out between kisses. 

Rhys pulled away from her only to drop to his knees and turn her around so that her front was pressed against the wall. His hands on her waist, he kissed down her lower back, nipping and licking as she sighed in pleasure. He bit down on the spot at the base of her spine, right above the curve of her backside. It would leave a nice mark. She almost smirked at the possessiveness, the marks to rival Azriel’s. 

But then his tongue was in her, flicking and stroking and it was all she could do to stay upright as her knees buckled. He pinned her to the wall with that hand on her waist, and with his other hand, stroked her until she cried out as his name, begging him to go faster. His mouth closed around the bundle of nerves between her thighs, his fingers still moving in her, and her orgasm crashed into her. 

When she could at last open her eyes again, and the world came back to her, she pulled him up to kiss him, and groaned when she tasted herself on him. Rhys was panting, chest heaving as he pulled away. Her hand stroked over his hard length. He had been hard and ready for a while now. 

They both glanced over to the other side of the room. 

Over his shoulder, she saw Cassian and Azriel on the bed. Cassian was once again on his back, panting and staring up at the ceiling as Azriel fucked him slowly. 

_He likes bottoming,_ Rhys said down the bond, sensing where her attention had drifted. _He was known for it in the camps._

She looked back at Rhys, and she knew he knew what she wanted. 

Rhys led her to the bed, where she climbed on, next to Cassian. Both males were sweating, panting, and they looked at her as she settled next to Cassian on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. Azriel didn’t stop moving in Cassian.

She took a moment to marvel at them. They were exquisite. Smooth, hard planes, muscled and tanned, and those hazel eyes pinning her to the spot. She felt Rhys settle behind her, standing behind the bed. His hands gripped her waist.

She leaned forward, putting her mouth right at the point where the two Illyrians connected, where Azriel was moving so painstakingly slowly in and out of Cassian. And as she licked and kissed that spot, her hand exploring Cassian’s navel, his stomach, Rhys entered her from behind. 

She groaned, long and loud, as he started moving in her. 

Her head slumped forward into the sheets as he moved in her, and she couldn’t focus on anything beyond that one point of connection. 

Rhys came in her with a groan, and she gasped, trembling with exhaustion and pleasure as she collapsed onto the bed. She could feel his cum leaking out of her, and her cheeks flushed. She’d lost count of how many times this night she’d come and had one of them come in her. It had to be dozens of times. 

But Rhys came over, wings tucked in tight, and kissed her, slow and deep, his hands trailing over her breasts, cupping gently. And that was all it took for her body to awaken again, for her to want him inside her again. 

He flipped her onto her stomach so she could watch Cassian and Azriel. And she watched as Azriel came in the illyrian general, and a heartbeat later, Cassian was coming, spilling himself over his stomach, his chest. 

Azriel pulled out, panting, and gave a searing kiss to Casssian, then collapsed onto the bed next to him. 

Rhys kissed her spine, then said into her ear, “Clean him off. Both of them.”

Her cheeks heated, but she rose to her knees. She swallowed as she beheld the hard muscles on his abdomen, the beautiful planes of his body. 

Her eyes flicked up to Cassian’s once, and they were dark, blown with lust. He was watching, waiting. For once, there was no snarky remark coming out of his mouth. 

So she lowered her head to his skin and licked away his warm, sticky release. Her cheeks burned at what she was doing, especially as she felt all three Illyrian’s eyes on her. 

When she was done, she raised her head, breathless, and wiped her mouth. Azriel was staring at her, and she could feel Rhys’s eyes on her. Neither made a move, though, as she lowered her head once more to take him into her mouth, licking and sucking him dry. 

Azriel groaned as he hardened in her mouth, and his hand slid down to tangle in her hair.

She moved her mouth down the length of him, and the soft groans he made were fire to her blood. 

A hand still on her head, gently guiding her motions, Azriel said, his voice low and guttural, “I’m going to choke you. I’ll go slow.” 

She hummed in response around his cock, and his grip on her hair tightened as he started thrusting into her. 

She tried to time her breaths to her thrusts, but he started going harder and faster and deeper than she could comfortably take, and she gagged as he hit the back of her throat. Her hands instinctively flew up to his legs to brace herself, but Azriel was thrusting in earnest now, and she was choking and sputtering on his cock. 

Her hands tightened on his knees, but he didn’t slow down. Behind her, she heard Rhys let out a low, rough laugh, and then his hands were on her waist, and before she knew it, he was inside her again. 

Every movement of his body inside hers ripped a groan from her throat. The pleasure was sharp, consuming. She let herself get lost in it, let Rhys thrust into her so that her mouth rocked forward on Azriel’s cock, let Azriel pump his hips in and out of her throat as she gasped for air between his thrusts. 

Azriel came down her throat, gasping and panting her name as he pulled out of her, and she swallowed, as breathless as he was. 

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still wide. “Gods.” She felt a pleased burst of feminine satisfaction at the sleepy, sated look on his face. 

Rhys was still moving in her, tugging her back against him, and she moaned. 

_“Rhys.”_ Every thrust he made hit that spot deep inside her, and she cried out as she felt that peak approaching once more. 

Cassian appeared in front of her, a heartbeat later, waiting, and moaned when she put her mouth on him. She moved her head down his length, hollowing out her cheeks as she sucked him deep. He swore, hips pumping into her mouth.  
When he was close, he pulled out of her mouth, and grunted, “Open your mouth.”

She did, and he came on her face, his cum splattering on her cheeks, and some of it falling into her mouth. 

Rhys came inside her a moment later, and she slumped to the floor, breathing hard. There was cum leaking out of her, dripping down her legs and her face, and she was so sore and sensitive, the lightest touch between her legs would have her screaming. 

Afterwards, they all collapsed on the bed. Feyre was so tired, she felt drunk. Delirious with pleasure. She could feel her skin still radiating that Day court glow, which she had not bothered to hide. She didn’t even know if she could manage the strength required for that simple task. 

“I’m so tired,” she gasped out, “but I don’t want to stop.”

Rhys kissed her brow. “Sleep. We won’t stop.” 

Heart thundering just a bit, she met his gaze. “Okay.”

Her eyelids were heavy, and yet she tried desperately to stay awake, to look down at Azriel who had knelt at the edge of the bed and was raising her hips to lend him better access as he lowered his mouth to her. She gasped, then sighed. 

It was a sight she never wanted to forget. A sight she wanted to paint someday. His dark, beautiful head bowed between her legs, his wings curving around him. She wanted to reach out a hand to play with those wings, but she was too sleepy now to even think, and before that thought had fully formed, she had drifted off to sleep. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she woke again, to the sensation of Rhys thrusting in her. She moaned, throwing her head back against the pillows as she felt every inch of him filling her, and his hands went to her breasts, cupping them as he lowered his head to kiss her neck. 

Her orgasm crashed into her, and a heartbeat later, he was spilling in her with a shuddering gasp. She was breathless with pleasure, with newfound exhaustion, as Rhys curled next to her on the bed, his body half over her as he laid gentle kisses on her neck, her collarbone. They were both fully naked, though the sheets covered most of their lower halves, and she blinked up at him. 

“You’re awake,” he grinned. She didn’t know what to make of what had just happened. The overwhelming, incredible sensation of waking up to having her mate moving inside her, the sudden, disorienting sounds and feelings as she was consumed with pleasure. 

She blushed just a bit, then lifted her head to find Cassian and Azriel passed out on the bed across the room. 

For the first time, she noticed the new wet stickiness on her stomach, her breasts. Rhys followed her gaze, his eyes wicked. 

She felt a thrill go through her at the thought of what the two Illyrians had done to her while she was asleep. And Rhys had watched. Or joined. 

She met his eyes finally, and he raised a brow. _Want to see?_

In answer, she merely brushed a hand against his mental shields of adamant, and Rhys let her in instantly. 

_Feyre was already drifting off to sleep, Azriel kneeling before her as he licked her, using his hands and mouth to coax her body to another climax. She writhed on the bed, her too-sensitive body being tortured with another overwhelming climax, too soon. She was still dripping with their cum, her hair plastered with it, and her mouth fell open in a gasp, even as he felt her slipping completely into sleep._

_Rhys felt himself harden at the sight of it._

_Then Azriel was thrusting inside her, drawing a high-pitched, needy sound from her, and then Cassian was there, pushing against her ass, until they were both moving in her. Her eyelids fluttered, but didn't open, and she remained asleep, even as she made small, pleading noises. Her body was limp, and Azriel manhandled her as he used her body for his pleasure._

_"Come on her stomach," Rhys said, stroking himself harder now. He wanted to see her messy, her body smeared and dripping with their cum. He wanted her to know the two Illyrians had been there, wanted her to see it and sense it when she woke up sore between her legs and dripping with cum that she didn't remember having inside her._

_Azriel pulled out of her with a soft grunt, and came over her stomach, Cassian following a heartbeat later._

_Then Rhys came over her, sliding into her bruised and swollen pussy. It was obscenely wet, drenched with gods knows how many loads from the three of them. She whimpered as he slid into her, oversensitive from pleasure._

Feyre pulled out of the scene, wide-eyed and wet again. “Now I’m starting to wish I was awake for that,” she said, voice husky from sleep.

He chuckled, but said, “I think you’ve finally worn me out.”

“Was beginning to think it wasn’t possible,” she said cheekily.

He jerked his chin over to where Cassian and Azriel were passed out. “I lasted longer than them.”

“Can you last longer than _me?”_

“Cruel, wicked thing. You’re insatiable.”

She glanced down at herself, at the mess all over her stomach and legs. “Maybe a bath first.” She grimaced at the hunger she now felt for the first time, now that she was no longer overwhelmed with pleasure. “And a meal.”

He kissed her. “It’s a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> i do have more stuff for kinktober, so look out for them :)
> 
> Send me prompts/comments, or just drop in say hi at my tumblr @rhysandswhore


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